


daisies

by PostApocolypticAlien



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Coming of Age Maybe?, F/F, female!mulder, idk - Freeform, not really a college AU, that gap between leaving high school and going to college
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25562599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostApocolypticAlien/pseuds/PostApocolypticAlien
Summary: But it’s as the mouse wanders over to universities closer to the East then the West she knows there’s something not quite right with her, something that makes that pen slip over the lines ever so subtly, not enough for anybody to notice but if one was to look hard enough they would see it.A mattress on the floor, her belongings scattered around, an important thing lying on the mattress. She picks up her coat and Fox watches as she walks away, leaving her there in a rundown apartment, the most important thing walking away from her.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Phoebe Green/Fox Mulder
Kudos: 5





	daisies

**Author's Note:**

> This was a concept that most people (my friends) seemed to like on Tumblr and when I said I might write a college au with that same concept they seemed to have wanted it so here we are. It's not exactly a college au like the tags say but they're definitely not FBI agents so....

_I got a record player that was made in 2014._

_Died by hair blue, it came out a seasick sort of green._

_I like vintage dresses when they fall just below my knees._

_I pretend I scraped them climbing in the trees._

_Sometimes I think all I’m ever doing is,_

_Trying to convince myself I’m alive._

**DAISY THE GREAT, Record Player Song.**

There’s a jam jar labelled _Dana’s College Fees._ Billy had one, Missy had one, and Charlie’s is counting as each day passes.

Even if all four Scully children had plans that didn’t encompass college it didn’t matter, their path was already written out for them- they could pick the course, even pick the university if their father was in a good mood, but they were going, end of.

“I might run away before then,” Charlie says with a smile. He’s sixteen and full of hope that there’s still a way out.

He and Dana sit in the treehouse, something that came with the house, already there when they moved in. Mom had been unsure of it at first, uncertain of its stability, told them not to go in it. That was until Charlie had climbed into it one day, curiosity getting the better of it. It hadn’t fallen, Charlie hadn’t died like Margaret assumed he would and it was theirs, shared between the four of them then only shared by two when Bill and Melissa moved out.

“You don’t want to go to college?” Dana asks. She sits on the small couch, Charlie lounging in the hammock, swinging it side to side.

His answer his towards the ceiling.

“I don’t see the point,” he tells her. “Why be held down by education when you can just go…”

It’s something she keeps thinking about as she looks at universities and the courses they offer. Missy took Geography- she liked travelling and had plans to go up and down the East coast. She had a feeling Charlie wanted to go further.

Sometimes she wished she had her siblings’ abandon but often times she found herself more similar to Bill Jr; lines coloured between the lines, always doing what their parents expect of them, never stepping out of line, looking at universities in the border their father had made for them.

But it’s as the mouse wanders over to universities closer to the East then the West she knows there’s something not quite right with her, something that makes that pen slip over the lines ever so subtly, not enough for anybody to notice but if one was to look hard enough they would see it.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

A mattress on the floor, her belongings scattered around, an important thing lying on the mattress. Fox picks up her bra, shirt, and jeans and heads into the bathroom.

She doesn’t bother buttoning up the shirt, instead picking up the white toothbrush off of the sink and beginning the ritual of brushing her teeth.

Turning away from the mirror she eyes her bedfellow asleep in the bed. She’ll have to wake her up soon, Fox thinks, but for now she spits, puts the toothbrush back where she found it and exits the bathroom, now buttoning up her shirt as she goes.

She picks up her companion’s disregarded coat from the floor, fishing for the cigarette pack she knows is in there. Her hands wrap around her box and Fox pulls it out, throwing the coat back on the floor and the box on top of it.

The cigarette hanging out of her mouth, she wanders over to the window and pushes it open.

The air is warm for the early hour only foreshadowing how hot it’s going to be today. It’s no bother, aside from the occasional uncomfortableness, weather doesn’t tend to bother Fox that much, perhaps she’s accepted to it since moving to California.

She climbs out of the window, landing directly onto the fire escape. Below her, life goes on, people hurrying to work or wherever they need to be.

The cigarette lit, inhaling and puffing, watching the scenes under her, Fox wonders what it would be like to have a purpose, a structure to the day rather than just waking up, having sex, then going to sleep.

“You owe me a pack.”

Fox turns to find her girlfriend awake, standing at the open window. She takes in her attire and smiles.

“You found my T-shirt, then,” she comments turning back outwards.

“I think it looks better on me,” the other girl says. She takes the cigarette out of Fox’s fingers and takes her own puff.

“At least tell me you have underwear on,” Fox asks, staring at her legs. When she pulls her eyes back up to the girl’s face, she smirks.

“Of course not,” Fox chuckles, shaking her head. “Why would you?”

“Maybe I want to give your downstairs neighbour a show.” She passes the cigarette back to Fox.

Maybe there is a pool of jealously at that thought and for good measure Fox looks to the fire exit underneath her, grateful to find it empty.

“Unfortunately for you, Mr Biggins isn’t awake yet.” She flicks the bud over the edge, watching it tumble down to the world below.

She finds her girlfriend gone when she turns around, having climbed back into the apartment. Fox follows, climbing through herself and watching as the girl begins redressing.

“Where are you going?” Fox asks. She tries to keep the whine out of her voice.

“Home,” the other girl says, shucking on her jeans. She throws Fox’s T-shirt over her head, briefly exposing her bare breasts that Fox’s eyes are immediately drawn to. She covers up quickly enough, with her own clothes.

“You should go, too,” she says once her head is through the hole.

“Phoebe—” Fox begins, ready to scoff at that notion, tell her once again that she hasn’t had a home since she was thirteen years old.

“Mine were the same,” Phoebe says, standing up and moving over to where Fox stands. Her hands on her chin, lifting her face up. “Finally they learnt to accept it. Yours will too, eventually.”

She pulls her hand away from her chin, holding it in her own.

“It’s been four years, they never will.”

Phoebe begins an assault on Fox’s face, kissing every bit of skin as a way to soothe the pain.

There’s no pain, really, at least Fox likes to think that.

“Go home anyway,” Phoebe says, forehead pressed against Fox’s. “Get out of this hovel for a bit.” She kisses Fox’s lips and Fox tries to hook onto it, put her arms around her and fall back into the bed and stay there for the rest of the day but Phoebe pulls away before she can do any of that. She picks up her coat and Fox watches as she walks away, leaving her there in a rundown apartment, the most important thing walking away from her.


End file.
